For whatever reason, maybe the wind swaying the palm trees in my backyard or the patio chimes sounding, I felt wistful.
Maybe I felt like that because I finished a difficult scene in a novel I’m writing. It could be the stir of memories or the longing of wanting something which seems impossible to achieve.
Whatever the reason I came across this beautiful photo and had some thoughts about what the photographer might have been saying.
Thinking About Life
And the days pass like the leaves dropping from trees
tumbling one after another, every year,
faster than the one before.
Layers of memories, once vivid, fading into a blur.
We grow older, leave our past,
drift across the present and into our future.
Short shadows now cast long.
We look to the sky, knowing our view is measured.
How much of the blue do we see,
as much as when we were young?
More now that we are not?
How we will miss that sky,
scribbled with wafting clouds.
How we will miss the brilliance of a sun-splashed day.
The pages of our life keep turning,
nearing the end of a chapter,
nearer to the end of the story.
What do you see?